


Capital Cowboys

by Blue_Jaye_Fevre



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Action, Adventure, Gen, Humor, Mercenary Company, Multi, Mystery, Original Character(s), Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Jaye_Fevre/pseuds/Blue_Jaye_Fevre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were young, restless, and bored. Now, united under a silver tongued wanderer and his right hand man, a group of talented misfits, rogues, killers and prodigies form into one of the greatest Mercenary companies in the Capital Wasteland. Rated M for Violence, Language, Sexual content, Drug usage, and other depravities. Humor, Romance, Action, Adventure. All OC main characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

'These guys were serious fucking business.' Barry thought as he raced past his dying comrades.

He and his gang had been relaxing after a successful raid on some farm run by some dumbshit waste landers. Those pricks were always trying to start something out here, raising Brahmin or Mole Rats or whatever the fuck you raised out in the wastes.

At least they stocked up on food and shit, and they didn't put up much of a fight. This one even had daughters, so that counted for something. They had been back in their camp for about an hour or so, minding their own fucking business when a motherfucking missile slammed into one of their shacks, killing whichever bums had been inside.

Barry's gang was pretty damn big, with more than fifty raiders working under him and Screed, his lieutenant. They took down whichever assholes got in their way, and they had rarely been challenged by any sentient creatures in the wasteland.

So to have them be assaulted by a dozen or so attackers out of the fucking blue was a little much for Barry to handle. Barry's first reaction was another Regulator raid. Typical.

They thought themselves to be keepers of the "peace" or whatever the fuck that meant in the Wasteland. Barry thought they were inconsiderate douchebags. Every man had a right to eat, right?

All Horde raiders knew that the Regulator fuckwads were dangerous. They were a bunch of Law Bringers who wielded tough guns and preyed on raiders frequently. They only attacked in small groups though, all guerilla warfare and that shit. Barry had never seen more than six or so Regulators attacking in a group.

So why the fuck were they under attack from nearly twenty of the bastards! Barry had an answer:

These kids were not the fucking regulators!

At first Barry thought that it was Talon Company. But these kids were too young to be with those assholes. Most weren't even covered in armor.

They were too clean cut to be raiders, too vicious to be Brotherhood, too tactical to be Outcasts.

They were something entirely different. Barry wasn't afraid of no kids with guns.

At least until they mowed through his camp like a pack of Deathclaws, gunning and slashing at anything that moved. These fuckers would give those snot nosed brats from lamplight a run for their money.

There was some invisible sniper taking potshots along the rock outcropping that helped serve as a natural barrier to pests and enemies. Great help that thing was right now.

The invisible sniper was trumped in assholery by the invisible Missile Launcher, casually firing hot death into the camp every time his gang tried to regroup and form a barricade.

That was better than the gigantic man wielding a sledgehammer as if it were a toy, breaking bones with singular, one handed strikes.

Which was more merciful than the man with the killer sentry bots, whose bots both cut down raiders and ended the lives of any raider still breathing. The kid in the dress was assisting his robots in putting down any surviving raiders trying to flee the battle.

Another girl with an antique revolver was proving to be a real pain, firing off rounds faster than he could count them.

Meanwhile another girl, wielding an iron fist had an uppercut that was so strong it knocked the head off of Screed outright.

All the while a gaunt man in a business suit calmly fired off rounds from his gigantic magnum at anything still putting up a fight.

These kids meant fucking business, and Barry was going to live to fight another day against them. Avenge his gang, even. As soon as he escaped of course. Barry pushed past two raiders who were running towards the sounds of combat. Barry himself had made it to the edge of his camp, where he only had to make his way through several passages of rocks in order to escape.

He turned a corner and ran straight into the sharp end of a switchblade.

"Whoops! My bad, you raider piece of shit!" spoke his assailant who was…

A small girl with a pony tail and a baseball cap, garbed in very revealing Merc gear. The fuck?! Did this little bitch just jump him?

The girl twisted the blade, which further opened the tear in Barry's left lung. It became hard to breath after that.

With her other hand she unholstered a silenced pistol and pressed it to his temple.

"Fugggh you-"

*Bang*.


	2. The Makings of a Legend

Six Months earlier…

Vincent Kayser was roughly 5'10. He weighed 187 pounds, all of it hard, lean muscle. He was stocky but graceful in his movements. He had a decidedly Germanic face: a small stubbed nose, rounded cheeks tanned golden brown by days spent under the wasteland sun; Blonde hair cut close, with a clean shaven face. As a whole, nothing on his face came off as particularly hard. Except his eyes of course.

Vincent's steel gray eyes missed absolutely nothing. They pierced into the jackets of grimy strangers, under the counters and tables of bars and hideouts. They found guns on jovial merchants, blades on worn whores and ill intent in every man who crossed his path.

Vincent's eyes could scratch diamonds.

The scars helped too. A trio of long lines ran from Vincent's right temple, down his right cheek, and stopped just at his jawline.

He considered himself lucky; if he were standing any closer to his opponent the scars would have been far longer, and far deeper. Assuming his was still alive to have them heal of course.

If Vincent wasn't enough to deter his opponents, then Lazarus was.

Lazarus, of course, was Vincent's confidant, point man, chief counsel and backup.

Standing at 6'2, Lazarus was more than two hundred pounds of hard muscle. He was also quick. Many a raider had met their end when they thought they could outrun the large man, who moved with such agility that even Vincent was still wowed at how the large man was able to be so fast.

Of course, Lazarus was older and more traveled than Vincent was. Vincent had just barely left his hellish home when the two bumped into each other. Brought together by the common threat of the wasteland, the two formed a fast friendship. Vincent was a fast learner, picking up marksmanship and hand to hand combat in a matter of weeks, all under the tutelage of Lazarus.

Lazarus was a font of combat knowledge and wasteland survival skill. When Vincent plied him for his background, Lazarus merely responded that he came from the northeast, near the ruins of New York.

They traveled together for nearly five years, from Vincent's late adolescent 19 to his fully grown 24.

In time he became a veritable killing machine. Raiders, Mirelurks, Slavers, Ferals and Mutants all fell to Vincent's skills with the gun and the blade. Vincent and Lazarus even took on a small Deathclaw nest during their winter in Delaware.

Vincent chuckled at the memory. Lazarus still held fast to the idea of Delaware being "boring" and filled with "Too little action."

Now they had begun moving southwards, working their way towards DC, commonly referred to by its post-war moniker: The Capital Wasteland.

Vincent was occupied with cleaning his shotgun. Carefully he scrubbed the filthy barrel, coated in layers of grime and gore. Lazarus was amazed that of all the weapons Vincent had chosen in their journeys that he had chosen the complicated and multi-part shotgun as his de facto choice of killing.

Lazarus favored his .32 caliber rifle. Easy to clean and easy to load, the .32 was a prime choice for many waste landers in Post War America.

Lazarus was a crack shot with his iron sights, and he had fixed a sharpened bayonet to the front of the barrel for those pesky close range kills.

But Lazarus wasn't cleaning his .32 right now. He was tending to several iguanas Vincent had caught on his scouting run here in the Capital Wasteland.

They had traveled two months from the Delaware/Maryland border to the Capital Wasteland, braving multiple threats (Not one, but two separate raider hordes)

Now they were virtually there. After two months of trekking through dunes and ruined towns, dealing with Cannibalistic murderers, Yao Guai dens, and all kinds of radiation they had finally arrived in the Capital Wasteland.

It was exactly as Lazarus pictured it: Dry, dusty, and filled with all of the same things he had been seeing for the last twenty years of his life.

Well, there were far more Radscorpions in the Capital Wasteland than up north. Radscorps were a pain in the ass. You couldn't eat their thick, chitonous exoskeletons, their blood was toxic to humans and their bodies stank while they were still alive, and in death they were a truly repugnant smell.

At least their poison glands were worth something. Vincent was good at dealing with Caravan merchants. For all of his talents, Lazarus was not great at dealing with traders and merchants. The concept of haggling was always elusive to him.

Vincent however was a silver tongued devil. Lazarus had met some smooth operators in his time, but Vincent could talk the biggest of skeptics into charging into a nest of Deathclaws with nothing more than wooden sticks.

Hell he had convinced Lazarus to join him in roaming the wasteland, scavenging for goods and taking on hostile wasteland inhabitants for survival.

Lazarus knew why the kid kept moving, never settling down and relaxing, always on the move for a new place to roam, a new town to scavenge, a new sight to see.

He knew that the kid was running from something. What this something was, Lazarus wasn't sure. Despite their bonding over five years of fighting alongside one another and helping each other during their hard falls, Vincent still had yet to mention what he was running from, or his past.

Lazarus had never revealed his past to Vincent, but that was acceptable. He didn't want to put any undue pressure on his ward. If they wanted to build a future together instead of ruminating on their pasts, all was well.

The distant sound of gunfire wasn't what broke Lazarus' train of thought.

Vincent was. He sat up quickly and grabbed his 10mm pistol, heading in the direction of the gunfire.

Lazarus sighed and grabbed his rifle, following the kid into his new adventure knowing full well that he was incapable of talking him out of it.

The firefight was between two different groups and it was, dramatically Vincent noted, set in a valley where the two sides were pinned behind rocky barricades.

On the left were a small group of men and women dressed in leather dusters, armed with assault rifles and combat shotguns. Vincent knew from firsthand experience that those kinds of arms were not easy to come by in the wastes.

The group on the right were dressed in black combat armor, complete with helmets.

All of the members were men, and they wielded far superior equipment: Laser rifles and explosives. One man trained a missile launcher on the group and fired.

The missile raced towards the duster wearing fighters before smashing into half of the group, coating the section in fire and shrapnel laden death.

The remaining dusters were trying to hold back the black armored men with little to no avail.

Vincent wasn't partial to either side, but if he wanted to scavenge those bodies, he would need to take down the armored opponents.

Vincent moved towards the side of the rocky outcropping and vaulted over the side, skidding down into the valley. Lazarus stayed topside to cover Vincent. He also had to see about getting rid of that Missile Launcher…

Three loud bangs in rapid succession heralded Vincent's entrance into the fight.

Two Black armored opponents were down, and a third was wheeling around to fight the new attacker when a .32 hit him in the dead center of his forehead.

The eight or so remaining opponents had already turned towards their newfound opponents with their weapons raised. Before they could so much as fire a shot, Vincent whipped a frag grenade in their direction and dove behind a small boulder.

Lazarus picked off black armors who had gotten far enough away from the blast radius to be affected by Vincent's grenade. Two men had been engulfed in the explosion, while a third had his body shredded by the shrapnel and lay profusely bleeding on the valley floor.

Lazarus took down two of the survivors leaving only a fraction of the black armors to fight back.

As the black armors fired on Lazarus, they found themselves caught up in a firefight with Vincent, who had snagged one of the assault rifles off of a dead duster.

After several minutes of intense back and forth firing, the remaining black armors were killed, bodies slumped unceremoniously against the walls of the valley or on its dirt floor.

Lazarus moved down into the valley to join Vincent, who was already checking the vitals of the Dusters.

He found random bits of gore belonging to the group of Dusters who had taken the missile hit. Several dusters had been shot up so badly that their duster jackets were worth little more than scrap leather.

One of the last to fall, an older man, had a single bullet in his head. Vincent slid off the man's duster and tried it on. It was fairly large on Vincent and he bundled it up for later. In the pocket of the duster jacket was a notice:

"Attention Regulators!"

'Must be the name of the dusters.' Vincent thought. He continued to read on.

"Sheriff Cruz has placed a new bounty on all Talon Company Mercenaries in the Capital Wasteland. Regulators are to eliminate Talon Company personnel with extreme prejudice. Bounties are 35 caps a finger. All kills will be moderated by each squad's deputy. Happy hunting!"

'Damn. 35 caps a kill? There were nearly 400 caps in this valley alone. And these assholes were easy.' Vincent mused.

Scavenging for a living either yielded strong hauls that left men incredibly wealthy and set for life. Some older scavengers claimed that the greatest treasure they had ever gotten out of the business was their lives. It was a pure crapshoot.

Lazarus was looting through the bodies of the Mercenaries, picking out weapons, ammo clips, and any other valuables that could be scavenged.

Vincent however was focused solely on the armor the mercenaries wore. The metal breast-plate and pauldrons fit him just right.

After collecting several laser rifles and a fair amount of ammo, Vincent fitted his newly gained armor. It was weathered and beaten, and stunk of death.

It was also the most reassuring piece of clothing he had worn in his entire life.

It had been… 16 months… no 17 months since Vincent had had any proper armor to wear, and this blood stained breastplate was far more adequate than his previous set of armor.

It was also fit nicely, but given Vincent's build that didn't surprise him very much. He may have been shorter than most of his opponents, but Vincent was cut like all hell. He knew it, Lazarus knew, several now dead Mirelurks who had ambushed him in the middle of river bathing knew it (Vincent's first, and subsequently last experience with baths), and a whole string of female Wasteland settlers in New York were well aware of it too.

Vincent grinned at the memories. It had been a long while since he had fooled around with a woman. Of course, the last woman he remembered fooling around with tried to shoot him in the face.

Shuddering, Vincent walked over towards Lazarus to see what the resourceful man had scavenged.

It turned out to be the remains of the missile launcher, two sets of moderately intact combat armor, and around 80 caps. Lazarus was an artist at scavenging caps from dead bodies. Vincent remembered Lazarus scavenging caps off of a dead Mole Rat once. To this day Vincent still couldn't figure out how he did it. Frankly, Vincent was happy not knowing how.

"Find anything good in the haul Kid?" Lazarus was packing up his items into a large sack, expertly disassembling items and organizing them into the space with learned efficiency.

"Some armor, couple laser rifles, caps, oh and this!" Vincent held up the large Duster for Lazarus to see.

Lazarus gently took the Duster from Vincent and appraised it. Nodding at the craftsmanship and lack of major damage, he handed the duster back to Vincent.

"Nice job Kid, but I think you can do better than that."

"Oh yeah? How so, Big man?" Vincent asked in reply.

"Try it on."

"What?! This thing is huge! It will just bog me down in combat!"

"Try it on over your armor jackass."

"Oh, shut up!" Vincent tried to fire back, all in playfulness.

He awkwardly slid his arms into the heavy leather sleeves of the duster. After readjusting it several times Vincent had the fit down.

It fit like a glove over his armor. The greaves on Vincent's arms clung to the insides of his sleeves, while the pauldrons held the duster up so that the bottommost parts fell to his shins.

The Duster wasn't hot, and he barely noticed the weight. He had a fair amount of mobility in his arms, and walking didn't seem to be a problem.

He did a fashionable twirl and faced back around to Lazarus, who was grinning like a fiend.

"It looks like it was tailor made for you Vincent."

"The fuck is a Tailor?"

"Pre-war makers of clothing. They made outfits from scratch, often custom fitted for their clients. Hence the reference." Lazarus waved over the Duster.

"Oh, gotcha. Thanks Lazzy!"

The big man grumbled and motioned for Vincent to grab his gear and get moving. Vincent knew he had come upon an excellent catch that night. What he did not know was how much this event would mark him in the years to come.


	3. Six Seconds

A week later the pair were approaching the settlement of Megaton. They had passed through a smaller settlement four days past, called Canterbury Commons. The residents had been friendly, and had paid good money for Vincent and Lazarus' loot. While the town was swimming in caps, it lacked a proper bar. Vincent hadn't gotten shitfaced for a long while, and he was determined to achieve that state in record time.

After trudging through the wastes, dealing with nearly a hundred Radscorps (no biggie) and some large, freakish mutants at the only bridge for miles (also no biggie, but they were pretty tough bastards to take down. Not very well coordinated though) they finally got onto a real road and road that straight south.

Megaton was somewhat atypical for a wasteland settlement. Yes it looked like every other settlement in New York and Pennsylvania the pair had ambled across, but they had never encountered one so big before.

Megaton must have had a population of around a hundred people, which Vincent considered to be enormous.

The pair made their way to a large bar in the back of the town, appropriately titled "Moriarty's Saloon"

"Excited big man?" Vincent asked Lazarus.

The ever evasive partner was carefully studying his surroundings, evaluating every threat, blind spot and escape route. Vincent walked with him as he waited for him to reply.

"Try not to get too drunk this time Kid." Lazarus grunted back noncommittally

"I never get drunk; I merely pass from one state of excellence to another."

"Mm hmm. Does your definition of Excellence include throwing up all night long in the desert?"

"Nah, typically that level of excellence implies several dropped pairs of panties."

Lazarus snorted and opened the door to bar

It was perfect:

A dozen patrons sat or stood, smoking cigarettes and taking swigs from dusty beer bottles.

The dim lighting played havoc on everyone's faces, and the smoke only added to the hazy feel of the bar. A ghoul bartender polished glasses behind the counter. A redheaded floozy was chatting up a scavenger by the staircase. A man in a business suit was playing a board game with a petite blonde.

An old pre-war ditty was playing on the radio. It was upbeat and featured a scratchy violin, while a man wailed about getting into the pants of his sweetheart. In one corner a pair of older waste landers were dancing to the tune, while in another a group of waste landers were quietly talking amongst themselves.

Vincent hadn't felt this at home since he was… back home. He blacked out the memory and approached the bar.

Vincent ordered a shot of whisky, while Lazarus ever the stick in the mud ordered a Nuka-Cola. They spent some time just shooting the shit and relaxing in civilization, well-earned civilization Vincent might add, before heading out again.

A pretty woman was walking by him, and Vincent barely noticed her, until his instincts kicked in.

Before he knew it she had an old fashioned revolver at the back of his head. Lazarus had his .32 pistol trained in the girl in a heartbeat.

Vincent put his hand on his combat knife when he heard the gun cock.

"Don't even fucking try it Talon asshole!" The girl hissed venomously.

The whole bar had gone quiet. Most of the waste landers stood back when the girl mentioned the word Talon. Several looked ready to gang up on Vincent.

A young man with black hair stood up and began shouting at Vincent's assailant.

"Ginny, what the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you really think that a Talon would just amble into town like he did?" Vincent wanted to buy this stand up gentleman a beer.

"Oh whatever Leon, Look at his armor. Tell me, is that not a fucking talon on the breastplate?" Ginny snarled digging the barrel of her revolver deeper into the back of Vincent's neck.

"Gee, like no one has ever looted armor before. Get real Virginia." Leon did not back down. Vincent decided this fine man deserved two beers.

"This kid, like all fuck he just moseyed into a Talon group and took them ou-"

Virginia loosened her grip for a fraction of a second, which was all Vincent needed to elbow her in the stomach and disarm her. Wrestling her to the ground, Vincent jammed the pistol into the base of her jaw.

"Let's get something straight here. I'm not Talon Company. Hell, Lazzy and I aren't even from the Capital. We rolled into the wasteland a week ago from up north, looking for better loot. En route to the Metro, we came across a battle between the Regulators-" Vincent patted his duster with one hand. "-And the Talon Company. We got there a little too late to help the good guys, but we cleared out the mercs. Before going into the ruins for some grade-A scavenging, we decided to have a fucking drink right here in your town. You courtesy is delightful." Vincent had shouted the second half of his tirade at the girl, who was…

Fuck she was gorgeous. Short brown hair curled circularly around her face in a neat bob. Her skin was a golden brown, no doubt from wasteland traveling. A button nose centered a small face with bright brown eyes and a large mouth, framed by paradoxically small lips.

She was gaping at Vincent now, no doubt surprised that he had been able to best her in hand to hand combat. 'Was this chick that hard to take down? Or was she just cocky as shit?' Vincent wondered

He stood up and flipped his pistol around, handing it to her handle first.

Leon's rough laugh could be heard in the background. "Heh, oh he's definitely a Talon Ginny. Better shoot him before he holds the door open for you!"

Virginia merely scowled at Leon and gave him the finger, before taking her weapon back from Vincent. He merely chuckled at their antics. Lazarus lowered his gun and the saloon began to swing back towards normalcy.

"Thanks. Sorry if I roughed you up a little. You look like you can take it." She quipped easily, tension leaving her shoulders instantly.

Vincent grinned at her. "Does this mean you'll buy me a round to make it all better?"

"Well I'm not going to kiss it jackass, so I guess that'll have to do." Ginny turned back to the bar. "Gob! Another shot of- fuck it, just bring a bottle and two clean glasses!"

The ghoul bartender nodded and got out the requested materials.

Vincent extended his hand in her direction. "Vincent Kayser."

Ginny extended hers back. "Virginia Ginsberg. Most call me Ginny."

The two spent a good two hours talking about their shared experiences in the wasteland. It turned out that Ginny and Leon worked together for the town's only vendor/resident lunatic Moira Brown. Moira, as Ginny explained, was a complete nutter who envisioned a wasteland free of poverty and danger. Her dream was to research the wasteland at depth and publish her findings into a survival guide of sorts. Ginny had informed him that her efforts had only ended with six very dead assistants and the current employ of Virginia and Leon. Both of them scavenged items in the wasteland for Moira, in return for food and shelter.

Leon only had a sickly mother and sisters left alive in his family living in some large settlement near the DC Metro, while Virginia had lost her father three years back to Talon mercenaries.

At least that cleared some things up for Vincent.

Leon moved out to ease give his family the living space, and sent most of his money back to his mother. Leon , as Virginia recalled, was a master at managing money and budgeting. He somehow found ways to send the lion's share of his paycheck back to the large settlement, Virginia corrected him: Rivet City, while still having enough left over for food, clothes, ammunition and other pleasantries. Virginia seemed to blow her entire paycheck on booze and food. And her father's revolver.

It was the last gift he gave her before his untimely death, and she cherished it not only for sentimental value, but for practical value as well. It was an older gun, with a reloading gate by the barrel. The frame was inscribed with intricate patterns, and the handle was a glossy, heavily scratched material, somewhat like bone.

Vincent knew it was a beautiful gun, and Virginia explained that it was just as dangerous as it was beautiful. He chuckled and told her "Of course it was."

Vincent turned to pour himself another shot when Virginia had cocked the gun and fired off more than a half dozen shots in the span of seconds.

Vincent flinched until he saw that Virginia had shot six empty glasses sitting on a shelf opposite the bar.

Six direct hits in six seconds. No wonder Virginia did not expect to be disarmed by Vincent.

"Holy shit." Vincent muttered. Vincent couldn't hit a fucking Brahmin while drunk, let alone a set of lowball glasses. This girl was a legitimate gunslinger.

Virginia merely smirked and took another shot of whisky.

Leon shook his head and ambled over to the pair.

"You realize that-" Leon did not get a chance to finish, as a wild eyed Irishman stormed out of the back and towards Virginia.

"THE FUCK YOU PLAYIN' AT GIRLIE? THINK ITS FUNNY TO SHOOT UP ME FUCKIN' BAR?!"

"Pssh you run a dump Moriarty."

"PAY FOR ME DAMAGES OR I'LL HAVE TO GET WICKED MEAN WITH YE GIRILIE!"

Virginia began to reload her pistol before spinning the barrel and aiming it at Moriarty's head. He had drawn a magnum at his hip and pointed it at her.

Leon sighed and pushed Virginia's revolver down, much to her annoyance. He turned to Moriarty and began to haggle over the price of the glasses.

As if by magic, Moriarty holstered his magnum and talked shop with Leon.

Virginia scoffed at the man's greed and holstered her own revolver, before grabbing Vincent by the shoulder.

"Come on you lug, you can stay with me tonight."

Vincent grinned happily as Virginia dragged him out of the bar.

Lazarus raised an eyebrow as Vincent passed him, but all Vincent did in reply was wink. The pair left the bar, allowing Leon to clean up their mess.

Virginia dragged Vincent in through the door to the General store and into her bedroom on the ground floor.

Maybe Vincent could get used to sleeping with women who aimed guns at his head.


	4. Breakfast at Moira's

Several hours later, after several rounds of the wildest sex Vincent had had in years, the two lovers lay down side by side, quietly talking amongst themselves. Vincent had told Virginia about the Note he found on the Regulators, the one about the bounties. She confirmed for him that people willing to do the work could find caps readily available. The work however, was wickedly dangerous and very few waste landers ever completed their jobs.

She tacked her survival up to practice and discipline. Leon may have been a money manager, bargainer and decent shot, but he lacked the skill at arms that Virginia had. Even better than her gun slinging skills were Virginia's lock-picking skills.

Vincent was amazed by this. Lock picking was not one of his skills. He left any locks or chests to Lazarus, who had great tactile senses. Virginia had learned from her father, who learned from his father, and so on and so forth. They fell asleep in each other's arms, both happily lost in shapeless dreams.

The morning came too soon, and brought with it a new burden: the door burst open to reveal a chipper Leon.

Vincent made sure his Sergeant was well hidden despite Virginia's pulling the sheets up to cover her perky breasts. The last thing he needed was to flash the close companion of his bedmate. Mornings like this were awkward enough.

"Good morning love birds!"

"FUCK OFF LEON!" Ginny was more exasperated than truly pissed. Vincent merely nodded at Leon.

In this light Vincent got a much better look at Virginia's partner: He was a little bit shorter than Vincent, but lean. He had a toned body that his apparel clung to. Jet black hair messily stuck up in every direction on his head, and his light blue eyes glimmered with the mischief of a younger brother who was finally entering adulthood after spending years as a child.

"I payed for six lowballs, a bottle of whisky, and breakfast." He motioned to the outside room in a sweeping gesture. "So would it be _too_ much to ask for a good morning?"

Virginia groaned and told her partner she'd be in momentarily. Leon smirked at her before winking at Vincent and closing the door.

Vincent never typically spent a long period of time with his conquests the following morning, but after last night he doubted that he had been the winner in their bed games. Virginia was a pretty kinky woman, and Vincent had been drunk enough to try some interesting things…

Vincent broke his embarrassing memories with idle banter. "He's a load of fun."

Virginia chuckled as she moved to put on her clothing, which were a set of under garments and leather armor pieces.

Vincent got up, unashamed of his nakedness and put on his clothes.

_*Thwack*_

Vincent yipped in a most unmanly manner, clutching his ass as Virginia merely chuckled and continued to get dressed. He dressed faster than normal and followed Virginia out into them main room for breakfast.

Leon sat at a table by himself, chowing down on a box of Sugar Bombs and a glass of purified water. Two other places were set for Ginny and Vincent, plates filled with steaming bacon and eggs.

"Awww Leon! Ant eggs and Molerat Bacon? Your crimes are forgiven." Ginny deadpanned.

Leon merely grinned and went back to consuming his food. The three young adults quietly had their breakfasts with little more than small talks penetrating the silence.

Vincent, after a night of thinking it over proposed his idea to Leon and Virginia.

"Leon, how much does Moira pay you both for your work?"

Leon snorted. "Not fucking enough. We get two hundred caps a month apiece."

Vincent studied Leon for several seconds.

"Vincent, why are you staring at Leon?" Ginny asked.

"Leon, are you telling me that making 200 caps a month is not enough?" Vincent's voice was steely, a mixture of shock and disdain.

Leon nodded. "Scavengers in the Metro can make that over a dozen times, and that doesn't even scratch the bounties groups like the Regulators or the Brotherhood put out there. Moira makes more than three thousand caps _a week_."

Vincent was dumbfounded. **Three thousand caps?!** You could live like a King with that kind of money up north.

"Virginia," Vincent said starting again. "Last night you told me that it was easy to find work in the Capital Wasteland. That there were a ton of individuals who had mountains of caps to throw at their problems."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, I did, but what's your point?" She gave him a quizzical look.

"Ever considered going into the Mercenary business?" Vincent grinned at her. Virginia's eyes widened, while Leon actually did a double take.

Leon spoke up. "Mercenary work?! Like hunting down Ferals and Raider gangs? Are you fucking nuts?!"

"Lazarus may think so at times, but those two beasties have nothing on a Deathclaw."

"You've fought a Deathclaw?! Bullshit!"

"Yep. Lazarus and I took out a nest in Delaware."

Virginia's jaw dropped even further. "Death _claws_?!"

Vincent nodded. "Tough bitches to kill, but they really make you appreciate fighting off raider gangs and feral ghouls."

Leon raised another point."Vincent, there are only two Mercenary groups in the Capital Wasteland: Talon Company and a smaller outfit in the DC Metro called Reilly's Rangers. The Rangers are specialists who focus on super mutants and other commission based jobs. Talon Company is a massive organization with hundreds of members. Even if we formed a company like you are suggesting, how the hell would stack up against those groups?"

Vincent's eyes flashed their hard steel for a moment, and Leon instinctively looked downwards.

"By being better than either of them. Think about it, The Rangers are stuck in the DC Metro where only the rich and well-guarded can reach them. Talon Company are ruthless thugs who don't care about ordinary waste landers. Think about everyone else! Canterbury Commons is swimming in caps through their Caravans. Megaton is a major trade stop and safe haven. Rivet City, from everything Virginia has told me, is as close to pre-war society as is possible in this wasteland. These places are _filled_ with individuals who have goals and ambitions and dreams. Often times those dreams need skilled hands to fulfill them. We could be that group!" Vincent was winning them over, slowly but surely it seemed. Virginia was exuberant at the idea. She was definitely the wild child of the pair. Leon was far more cautious.

Leon seemed more skeptical than Virginia did. "Between the three of us we've got what? Combat skills, lock-picking skills, and some negotiating skills? That is hardly enough to make us profitable in the wasteland!"

Vincent shook his head. "We'll make a trip to Rivet City to scout for more talent. We are going to need a strong, diverse crew if we want to be up for any challenge."

Leon raised an eyebrow. "We?"

"Yes we you twit. If I'm going on this adventure, than so are you!" Ginny interjected.

"What?! Oh hell no. You are not dragging me into this madness!"

"Think about it Leon: This is our opportunity to make more money than we are already!"

Vincent saw his opening. "Your partner is correct. This will mean more money for you and _your family_."

Vincent could see Leon's resolve breaking. He closed his eyes for several seconds.

After a pregnant pause: "When are we leaving?" Leon said.

Vincent and Ginny grinned at each other.


	5. Of Trolls and Tolls

Vincent had informed Lazarus of their plans that day. His mentor, ever helpful in molding Vincent's worldview and wisdom, told him that he was a "fucking idiot" and asked what he could do to help.

Vincent told him that he, Virginia and Leon were going to depart for Rivet City that afternoon in order to gather supplies and see how many people they could recruit. Vincent needed Lazarus to do the same in Megaton. Namely, recruiting and fielding candidates.

Lazarus acquiesced and gave Vincent his blessing. Vincent thanked him, but honestly felt sad having to leave his mentor in town. It was a small sacrifice however. Ginny was a wicked fighter, and Leon had some contacts in Rivet City that they could utilize. Besides, Lazarus ran with a mercenary group in the ruins of New York in his formative years so he was bound to have some experience on the matter.

It was one of five facts Vincent knew about Lazarus in his life pre-Vincent.

So that evening, armed and armored, the group set off southwards for Rivet City.

Everyone had a different style, or at least it seemed that way to the perceptive Vincent:

He was decked out in his armor and duster, with his Combat Shotgun on his back, his pistol on his hip, his knife in his boot. He had no headwear or glasses on.

Virginia wore her leather armor with a pair of dark sunglasses to keep the sun out of her eyes. She had her revolver on one hip, and a 10mm SMG on the other. Her Combat knife was at the small of her back. She was the most conservatively dressed of the bunch.

Leon was by far the flashiest dresser, wearing a black leather waistcoat that showed considerable wear and tear. At his neck was some combination between a Gorget and a scarf, and the sleeves of the coat were torn off. Thin silver wire that was woven onto the shoulders of his jacket was also woven into the bracer-gloves on his wrists/hands. Several pre-war medals were stitched into the left breast, and the torn jeans that made up Leon's pants had leather sewn into the missing areas. Thin silver chains, tarnished with age were wrapped around his black combat boots.

Strapped to his back was a Chinese Assault Rifle, at his left hip was N99 Pistol, and his combat knife was sheathed into his right breast. He had a pair of fashionable glasses over his eyes. He looked both ridiculous and killer at once.

Never mind the outfit, Vincent was jealous as hell that Leon had a Chinese Assault Rifle. Leon was equally jealous of Vincent's Duster. Virginia told them to either shut up and walk or fulfill her lusty man-on-man fantasies.

Both men recoiled in mock horror and joined her in marching through the wastes.

Vincent was amazed at how on point the group was. While he agreed they had social chemistry, he doubted they would work so well as a team, but all it took was a pack of wild dogs to prove him wrong.

Two dogs ran towards Leon who calmly put them down with precise shots from his Assault Rifle.

Another lunged at Vincent, who blew it away with his shotgun.

The final dog had tackled Ginny to the ground. Thinking fast, she rammed her armored forearm into the dog's mouth. The dog, momentarily gagged by the leather, was unable to react to Ginny driving her knife into the dog's chest. With a slight twist, the dog jerked and fell over, very much dead.

She shrugged the dog off and checked for injuries: Blessedly, she just had a few scratches in her armor.

That didn't stop Leon from freaking out and forcing her to sit down while he evaluated her safety.

"Piss off Leon, I'm fine!" Ginny whined. For a ridiculously strong woman, she acted childish at the oddest of times.

"Quit your bitching, the last thing I need is for you to get infected from feral dog slobber." He turned her arm over, nodding at the lack of wounds.

"We need to keep moving." Vincent knew from experience that the best way to avoid accidents in the Wasteland was to be in a state of continuous motion. Fights attracted scavengers and other predators. The last thing they needed was to get cornered by anything too tough for their group to take down.

The trio pressed onwards, coming into view of another metro on their side of the river.

Ginny pointed to the skyline. "That is Arlington. It's more or less as dangerous as the DC Metro, but there are several settlements surrounding it."

"All right, anywhere we can bunk down when the lights go down?" Vincent inquired.

Leon shook his head no. "No really. There is Grayditch, but we'd have to go out of the way to get to it. We can make it to Rivet City with no incidents if we keep going."

With that the trio pressed onwards, dealing with no enemies until they arrived at a crossroads by the river.

Vincent heard the whirring of the Mini-gun well before the others and had motioned for both Ginny and Leon to get down.

The three ducked behind a pile of rubble, with Vincent surveying the chaos before them:

A band of raiders on the DC side of the Potomac were firing at three burly green mutants on the Arlington side of the River. The raiders were maybe fifteen in number, and all were equipped with basic small arms.

The mutants in contrast were wielding assault rifles and a Mini-gun.

Vincent did not need an education to know that the scales were tipped against the raiders.

"What do we do?" Leon asked.

"We can take 'em." Ginny said, withdrawing and cocking her revolver.

"Fuck that, we don't have nearly enough ammo for three mutants."

Vincent peered around the rubble. Several blocks away was a small canal with a tin shack. A glimmer of light made Vincent instinctively duck.

His instincts saved him, as a sniper's round glanced off of the top of the rubble.

One of the mutants turned away from the fight and began making his way towards the gunshot. As luck would have it, it was the Mini-gun wielder.

"God damn it!" Leon hissed as the Mutant began to walk towards their rubble. What do we do now?!"

"Everyone up on three, move in different directions and we'll hit him from different angles. I'll draw his fire left, you two go right to the bus stop." Vincent was in full tactical mode now.

The others nodded and checked their weapons.

"Three… Two… One… NOW!" Vincent shouted.

All three adventurers stood up at once and fired on the mutant before rolling left and right. The mutant was hit with shotgun shells, 5.56 rounds, and .357 bullets at once, dazing it. It began to fire up the Mini-gun when a loud crack was heard and the mutant's leg exploded in a spray of gore. Vincent took the opportunity to run up to the mutant and smash the butt of his shotgun into the mutants face.

Purple blood splattered outwards and the mutant groaned, falling backwards attempting to grab onto Vincent in the process.

Vincent dodged the clumsy grab and put his shotgun right into the face of the mutant and fired.

The mutant's head exploded outwards onto the ground, bits of brain matter strewn in a wave around the remains of its head.

The raiders had managed to down one of the mutants, and the other was too engaged with the Raiders to notice he downed comrade. Vincent looked down the road to see a figure waving at him. He motioned for the group to follow him, everyone quietly taking their time to move towards the canal.

Upon arrival they were greeted with an elderly woman garbed in tattered wasteland clothes, wielding a beautifully up kept sniper rifle.

"Greetin's children. Whats a bringin' you down to see Old Grandma Sparkle?" The older woman asked.

"You realize you almost took my head off right?" Vincent snarked.

Sparkle snorted. "You realize you made me waste a precious bullet, eh boy?"

Ginny snickered, and Leon handed sparkle a small pouch.

"Aww thank ya dearie. Toll's been paid, go right on through!"

As the trio walked past the deranged older woman, Vincent questioned Leon about what had just happened.

"Some heads up would have been nice."

"Last time I came through here she didn't have a sniper rifle. Shit happens man."

Vincent grumbled and continued on with his comrades, the sounds of gunfire growing softer in their wake.


	6. The Passage

After two uneventful days on following along the Potomac, The trio came upon the Washington Memorial Bridge, which held significance for some reason.

Virginia scolded his ignorance. "You dumbass, the bridge is the physical border between the unclaimed area of the Arlington/Potomac strip and the Brotherhood territory. Now we can walk twenty feet without having to deal with any bullshit encounters."

"Brotherhood, as in the Brotherhood of Steel?" Vincent inquired.

Virginia and Leon actually stopped walking and turned to face Vincent, their faces incredulous.

"No, the Brotherhood of Tin." Leon deadpanned. He tried to chuckle at his own joke, but after seeing Vincent's face he stopped laughing.

Vincent had gone ashen pale, his eyes frozen in place. He trembled lightly.

Virginia moved towards him and held his shoulders. "Vincent, what's wrong? What happened?"

Vincent didn't hear her. Instead he saw…

_…Smoke stacks. Bloody hand prints. Screams in the fiery night. Rattles of gunfire. Steel giants ambling down streets, firing off red death at anything that moved. The churning and grinding of the mills didn't stop for the workers, and it didn't stop for the giants either. They broke into houses, destroyed shacks with grenades. They burned entire blocks to the ground. So much screaming. He remembered hiding in an alley. Then the walls shook and the sky fell. It was dark for so long before he heard the clawing and had to run. The teeth were following him, chasing him. He never stopped running. Not until…_

"VINCENT!" _*thwack*_

Virginia had smacked him in the face. He would never admit that it hurt, but holy mother of god could that girl throw a punch. He snapped out of his memories and faced Leon and Virginia.

"I'm… sorry." Vincent managed to squeak out.

"What in the living fuck was that?" Virginia demanded from him.

"Nothing. We need to keep moving."

Virginia held a hand to his chest and stopped him from moving.

"Look, I care about you, but beyond that I need to know if you are okay moving forward. I won't have you getting us killed when you shut down like that. Am I clear?"

"I'm fine, it was nothing, and I could still take a dozen raiders without even thinking about it."

Ginny scoffed, but more color returned to her face.

"Good, now let's press on. We need to pass the checkpoint at the Citadel before we can board the passage to Rivet City."

"You take a ship to get to Rivet City?" Vincent asked, stunned at the extravagance of such a thought.

"Well… Ship is overstating it considerably-"Leon began to speak before Ginny cut him off.

"It's a small boat. Ever since the muties fortified several outposts surrounding the Jefferson Memorial the land route into Rivet City has become nearly impassable. Now the only real way there is to take the ferry by the Citadel."

"All right, let's go then. I'm looking forward to eating something hot for a change."

Ginny nodded and the group took off towards the Citadel.

After dealing with a handful of raiders under the Washington Bridge, the trio arrived at the front gates of the Citadel. Vincent steeled himself and reined in his memories, not allowing himself to break down again when he saw the Paladins. That was a long time ago, and he didn't feel the need to dwell on the past.

At the entrance to the Citadel were three Paladins, a malfunctioning sentry bot, and two scribes who were working on the robot.

The Paladin on lookout tensed up as the trio approached the Citadel. "Halt! State your business or prepare for termination!" The Paladin readied a vicious Gatling weapon at the group.

Another Paladin snorted. "Stupid waste landers. Thinking they can walk where they like." He spat at their feet, a feat made possible by his lack of helmet.

Surprisingly one of the Scribes beat them to the punch.

"Lay off them Bael!" The unlikely defender of the trio turned out to be a skinny, solemn young man who had turned away from working on the robot and towards the obnoxious Paladin.

"Get back to work Caceres! I don't need you lecturing me!"

The young Scribe was unfazed. "Bael, the fact that you have been continuously posted at this door for the last two months should be a stark reminder of where you fall on the hierarchy. If you challenge me again, I will have you cleaning toilets in the dorms with the _knights_. Have I made myself clear?" The young Scribe put an emphasis on the word Knights, the significance of which was lost to Vincent, although he had noticed it.

The Paladin Bael backed off, grumbling to himself the whole time. The young scribe turned to the trio.

"Welcome to the Citadel, I assume you are en route to Rivet City?"

"Yes Scribe Caceres." Vincent answered humbly, not wanting to risk the wrath of the smaller man.

The Scribe nodded before turning to face Leon. His face changed from solemn to surprised for a fraction of a second, before he shouted out.

"LEON SFORZA! How have you been my old friend?" Scribe Caceres looked pleased to see Leon.

Leon rubbed the back of his neck and stepped forward. "I've been doing okay Teo, just working out of Megaton for a few months now. How are your studies on the robots going?"

"YOU ARE NOT TO ADDRESS THE SCRIBE BY HIS FIRST NAME OUTSIDER!" Bael roared. Teo turned and shot Bael a withering look before turning back to Leon.

"Oh very good Leon! I've almost completely replicated the blueprints for Protectron robots. If the brotherhood can gather enough materials, we can begin producing them! They will do the settlers of the Wasteland so much good, especially when they are not easy to come across as it stands."

Bael scoffed. "Elder Lyons has forbidden outsiders be given technology Scribe Caceres."

The Scribe narrowed his eyes at Bael. "Toilets." He repeated sharply. Bael looked back down to the ground, silenced by a boy ten years younger than him.

Vincent had to suppress a laugh, but both Leon and Virginia were giggling incessantly.

Teo turned back to the Trio. "I believe the ferry will be here momentarily, but I encourage you to be back to this side of the river in three days' time."

Leon perked up. He was working over what Teo had said before his face lit up with recognition. "The Duchess Gambit is back?!"

Teo nodded. "At least she will be in three days' time. Here for a week before she and her captain cast off for Point Lookout. You never know what Tobar will have in supply this time. If nothing else you can get more Punga fruit."

Vincent cast a questioning glance to Ginny, but she gave him a reassuring pat that said 'I'll explain everything to you later.'

Vincent nodded and glanced back towards Teo and Leon.

"So, what brings you back to Rivet City Leon?"

"Well Teo, this blonde Cabrón has gotten us into an adventure." Leon looked over at Vincent, wagging his eyebrows. Vincent chuckled and playfully shoved him.

Teo grinned at the pair. " _Si?_ Well don't get him killed Blondie. Leon has been instrumental in forging relations between The Citadel and Rivet City. Ahh, the ferry is in sight! You had best be on your way Leon. Best of luck in Rivet City my friends!"

"Take care Teo. And try not to kill Paladin Bael. _He is truly an **ass** et to the Brotherhood_." Leon stuck his tongue out at Bael, who looked about ready to beat the living fuck out of Leon's face.

Teo merely chuckled. "He's on a short leash."

The Trio laughed and went on their way, The Rivet City Ferry in sight.

The ferry was indeed a small boat, captained by a bored looking guard in security armor. A Mister Gutsy Robot and another Rivet City Guard collected tickets from Passengers as they boarded the boat.

Virginia and Vincent paid for their tickets and boarded the ferry.

All in all, there were only four other passengers besides the Trio: A caravan merchant and his bodyguard; an older mercenary in mismatched leathers, and a young woman with short, spiky hair.

The entire ship was silent on the passage over, and the sun was setting, casting a haunting look on the DC skyline.

Vincent had seen the New York skyline before, and while it was a devastating sight, this view was far more unsettling. At least in NY you could count on the never ending sounds of gunfire to keep you alert.

The DC Metro was quiet though, save for the occasional explosion every few minutes. Even those sounded far off in the distance.

_*Thump*_

The Ferry Rocked as it struck something. The Sentry sighed and unholstered her assault rifle. The Gutsy robot's pilot light came on its flamer appendage. Leon nodded towards the opposite side of the boat.

The Ferry stopped momentarily, long enough for a massive claw to drape itself over the side of the Ferry.

Vincent reached for his shotgun, but Virginia stopped him and nodded in the direction of the Gusty, which was now whirring angrily. It hovered closer to the claw.

A loud clicking signaled the Mirelurk raising its bulk up onto the boat. The Gutsy stopped and let out a prewar battle cry:

"ARE YOU READY TO BE CRISPY FRIED YOU SLIMY, PINKO SON-OF-A-BITCH?!"

The Mirelurk attempted to pull itself into the Ferry, but the Gusty let loose a massive torrent of flame. The Mirelurk shrieked as the flames licked it's claws. The Guard expertly shot four rounds into the singed Claw, forcing the Lurk to let go, bulk slipping back into the tidal basin.

The Gutsy, no longer detecting a threat, cheerfully moved back towards the front of the boat. It hummed a pre-war tune as it floated by the passengers.

Vincent spoke up first. "So, does that happen every time?"

Leon smirked. "Yep. You'd think those things would have learned by now, but nope. Moira is always going off on how smart these things are, but really they are dumber than some of the lobotomized Mole Rats she keeps around."

The young woman with the short hair snickered, while Leon winked at her. She simply raised an eyebrow at him, to which Vincent and Ginny laughed at _him_.

The rest of the boat ride was uneventful, and soon enough they were docked at the base of Rivet City.

Vincent was at a loss for words.


	7. Jarhead

Rivet City was a gigantic ship.

Vincent wasn't sure about the model, but it looked like someone pushed a skyscraper over and when it hit the ground it had cracked in half.

The Ferry docked at the base of a large metal structure on the landward side of Rivet City. It was three, maybe four stories tall and was according to Ginny the necessary checkpoint for entering Rivet City. Of course, Rivet city was nearly a dozen stories tall.

The passengers exited the Ferry and were escorted through the building. A queue was already forming for the departing passengers. Vincent noted that this anterior building was staffed with more Security guards. There had to be three guards for every one passenger. The ship's passengers moved up a metal ramp, ascending multiple floors until they reached the top.

The topmost floor was… empty. No desks, cabinets or other pieces of furniture were strewn about, as opposed to the other floors which had makeshift offices and living quarters. The only item of note was an intercom attached to an upright metal girder at the edge of the roof.

The Guard who escorted them began to speak into the intercom. "Gannick to Bridge Control, Shepard has a flock requesting permission to enter. Requesting Access, over."

"This is Bridge Control, Access granted Docking Control." The Intercom shouted back.

A loud metallic groaning signaled a bridge swinging outwards towards the Docking Tower. As it connected and attached to the Docking Tower, Gannick turned back to the "flock" and addressed them.

"Palmer is going to give you the run down when you get across the bridge. Stay off the edges and don't start any shit while you are here. Enjoy your stay in Rivet City." Gannick finished unenthusiastically.

"Jar is on duty right now? Oh god damn it." Leon groaned.

Vincent shot him an eyebrow, but Gannick merely grinned at the exasperated boy. "Like I said, enjoy your stay."

The Trio made their way across the bridge, with the other passengers trailing behind them.

They were greeted at the entrance by two Security Guards in head to toe armor, and a third officer stood in between them. He was stacked.

Vincent knew he couldn't be more than 6'4, but the Officer was huge. He was probably over two hundred pounds of muscle and bone, and if looked about as friendly as a pissed off Yao Guai.

The Officer began to address the visitors in a basso, thundering voice:

"Welcome to Rivet City. My name is First Lieutenant Jaroslav Palmer. Some quick rules that will prevent me from having to kick your asses during your stay: Numero Uno: Don't steal anything. This isn't some free for all bullshit like you kids have out in the wasteland. You take something that isn't yours, we will investigate and we will make you return it. The condition you find yourself in afterwards will depend on how you act. Nummer Zwei: Don't bother the workers. People have shit to get done, and the last thing I need is Dr. Li complaining about some nosy pricks who couldn't keep to themselves. Number Three: Don't start any shit. I don't care if it is a bar fight in the Muddy Rudder or a fucking duel on the flight deck. If you start something, we will end it. And if it isn't Danvers, Harkness, or myself ending it you can count yourself severely blessed. Do I make myself clear?"

The group nodded and murmured their assent to Palmer who carried on.

"Good, now assuming you don't do anything stupid, enjoy your stay and the many amenities that Rivet City has to offer. Chems are legal so long as you aren't peddling to kids, and there are some "comfort" women down in the bar on the sub-basement. The marketplace is straight ahead, while if you need to get anywhere else use the door behind me on the left."

The waste landers began to move single file through the walkway. For the first time Vincent noticed Leon keeping his head down, trying to be inconspicuous as possible.

The mousy girl in front of him walked past Palmer with no issue. His eyes remained glassy and focused on the DC Skyline.

Leon moved forward and was a foot past Palmer when the burly guard grabbed Leon by the scruff of the neck and smashed him up against the side of ship.

Vincent had his hand on his hip, but Virginia stopped him. Both of the other Security Guards had their guns leveled on the pair.

Leon and Palmer had their eyes locked onto each other.

"Sforza." Palmer snarled.

Leon gulped. "Good to see you too Officer Palmer. Have you been working out, cos you lo-"

"Cut the bullshit. Your tab has gone unpaid. Henry Young doesn't want you within five feet of his wife. Cindy Cantelli and Vera Weatherly have been pining for you to come back. Dr. Li needs both of her assistants for her Hydroponics project, so do your best to not screw them as well. Angela Staley is married to Diego now, and you had best not start anything there. I will personally throw you over the **god damned railing if you do**." Palmer practically spat out the last sentence.

Ginny merely sighed. Palmer cast a glance towards her. Loosening his grip of the rakish boy, he turned to Vincent and Virginia. "You two will keep this little bastard out of causing me trouble, or I will have you thrown out with him."

Palmer opened the side door not leading to the market place and abruptly slammed it shut.

Leon picked himself up off of the floor, rubbing at his bruised throat in the process.

"Asshole."

Vincent grinned at him. "Exactly how many girls did you fuck on this ship?"

"Lost track after thirty. It was his daughter that really got him set against me."

"What? Were you two dating?" Ginny merely shook her head and sighed, knowing the end of the story.

"Nope. She was to be married to some asshole in Maintenance. I visited her before her wedding night and slipped in my present to the Bride. It was going pretty well until Jar came to investigate. Nice catholic family like that doesn't take too kindly to strangers deflowering their daughters. I still have the scars from the beating he gave me."

Vincent didn't really have words for that. Ginny scoffed and rubbed her temples. "No shit sherlock. Anyone on this ship you _didn't_ have sex with?"

"Uh let's see here… Oh right, your crazy ass for starters!" To add insult to injury, Leon stuck his tongue out at Virginia.

Vincent shook his head. It was amazing that these two weren't already siblings, but their relationship kind of made sense. Leon grew up with nothing but sisters and when he left Rivet City he had absolutely no family out in the wastes. After pairing up with Virginia in Megaton it must have been like having a piece of his family back. Vincent remembered his family…

Not here. No not here.

"All right, we are here. Now who exactly do you know that we can recruit?"

"Well I am sure Mirza will want to come along for this ride. We might be able to get Ted to join up too. Hell, maybe even that asshole Harkness can recommend some guys for us. If not him Danvers can lend a hand. Of the three she is by far the most sociable."

"Okay, here is the plan: You and I will go talk to Mirza while Ginny goes over the supply list and picks up any of the little things we will need for the company. At 7:30 we will meet at the Muddy Rudder."

Ginny nodded and gave Vincent a peck on the lips. "Try not to get keelhauled. But if you do, try to leave me out of it."

Vincent chuckled. "Will do sweetheart."

Ginny winked at him and walked towards the marketplace. Leon gave Vincent a sinister smile. "What are your intentions towards my honorary sister?" He asked in an air of mock gravity.

"Lustful. Now let's go."

"Aye, aye Captain." Leon replied mockingly.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
> Thank you for reading! Please rate and review!


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